Buffy stared at Spike, who had his eyes closed, and his head tilted back against the seat of the airliner. He still looked strange to her with the slight tan that tinted his skin. Though it had been half a century since he had the pale vampiric glow she had been inexplicably drawn to, Buffy was often caught by surprise when she looked at Spike.

He does look good though…still sexy after all of these years.

“You know, pet, just because my eyes are closed doesn’t mean that I’m asleep.”

“Ha ha. You were just waiting for me to do that, weren’t you? That’s entrapment Mister! I should divorce you…er…is there divorce for claiming?”

“ ‘fraid not, pet. At any rate, you know you couldn’t live without all of this.”

Spike’s eyes opened languidly as he turned his head to Buffy, wagging his eyebrows at her. Rolling his tongue behind his teeth, he gently caressed her thigh with a strong, but loving, hand.

”And you know I couldn’t make it without you, pet, so don’t give me that pout.”

Buffy attempted, in vain, to hold her pseudo-angry expression, but faltered when Spike began to growl just loudly enough for her to hear.

“Now that’s not fair…where are we going to…?”

“Three steps ahead of you, Slayer.”

Spike quietly got out of his seat and made his way to the airplane’s small bathroom.

”I really am glad we took the red eye, love. Don’t think the stewardesses are even awake. Come on back.”

“Flight attendants, honey.”

“Whatever, love. Get your round little arse back here.”

Buffy made her way, silently, past Callie and the other sleeping passengers, and entered the bathroom with a mischievous grin. Her smile grew when she noticed that Spike was already up and ready for her.

“Oh, my, I must be in the wrong bathroom! Are you waiting for someone, sir?”

Buffy smiled as she expertly positioned herself at face level with Spike’s long, throbbing cock. It was all he could do not to cry out in ecstasy as she wrapped her full lips around his member. She cupped his balls in a soft hand as he gently thrust into her mouth.

“Pet, if you don’t get up here quick, I’m going to be joining the Mile High Club alone…Gods…you really are amazing at that.”

“Mmhmm…we’re just lucky that Willow gave us the spell to stop the smoke from coming every time we do…I don’t think smoke, even if it is blue, would be welcome on a plane.”

“I agree, pet; now, get up here.”

Spike grabbed her arms and pulled her mouth slowly off of his cock, setting her taut body in front of him. He turned her backside to himself before sliding her panties down her legs.

“Gods…you always need to wear skirts, pet. Did I ever tell you that?”

She laughed silently.

“Only about every time we do this in public. So…probably a good sixty thousand times.”

“And I’ll tell you the same thing the next sixty thousand.”

Spike thrust his pulsating cock into Buffy’s dripping slit. He pumped in and out of her in a desperate motion, and she could not suppress a loud moan as she clenched her vaginal muscles in a star-inducing orgasm. Though he quickly placed a silencing hand around her mouth, the damage was done. An urgent knock came at the door, and a sleepy, but strong voice seemed to scold them, as if it knew exactly what they were doing.

“Uh…is everything alright in there, Miss?”

Buffy turned her head to look at Spike in the mirror, for answers. She found him unable not only to speak, but also unable to think coherently.

“Oh Gods…Buffy! Uh…love you…uh, love you so much, pet!”

As Spike went limp on Buffy’s back, she grunted in frustration.

“No…I’m okay, thanks. Just airsickness, you know.”

“Uh huh,” came the voice. “If you’re alright now, you can head back to your seat.”

“Will do!”

Buffy frowned at Spike, who she could feel hardening inside of her again.

“Spike…”

“Oh, come on, pet…what’re they going to do? Throw us off the plane?”





As the airliner set down in a dark airport in Russia, two effeminate flight attendants were admonishing Buffy and Spike. Callie’s face looked as if it had been dipped in bright red spaghetti sauce. The color did not diminish until the group was driving their rented sedan through Russia’s cold streets.

“God! Can’t you two restrain yourselves? I mean, not that I’m unhappy that my parents really love each other, but, you’re ancient, Papa!”

“Oi! Now, that’s uncalled for, poppet,” he growled as he stared her down in the rearview mirror.

She sighed as she stretched out in the back seat.

“Will I ever be able to find anyone I can spend my life with?”

Buffy turned around to look at Callie, a motherly concern on her face.

“Honey…is that what’s been on your mind lately?”

Callie nodded.

“I just…I’ve tried dating other immortals, but it’s just…it feels wrong. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like…I’m not supposed to be with them…but I’m worried that if I’m too picky, I’ll be all alone….”

“I know, honey, I know. It took me forever to figure out what I should have known right away with your Papa. You’ll find someone, sweetie, don’t worry.”

Sighing as she laid her head down to rest, Callie’s loneliness crept back into her mind, despite her mother’s loving encouragement.

--

A tornado of chocolate hair rushed through the log cabin. Picking up various weapons from a chest in the corner of the blood-drenched living room, Istolna’s lithe form shook in agitation. The commotion had roused Angelus, who had passed out in orgasmic slumber after torturing, then eating, the unfortunate drunken man, who had stumbled onto the lawn. The man’s drained frame was still impaled on the moose antlers mounted on the wall, a look of terror still painted on his face, which hung strangely after Angelus had broken his neck. Drusilla’s shell, still possessed by Angelus, sat up, an irritated look on its face.

“And what in the hell are you doing, lass?”

Istolna’s maddened eyes and frenzied movements spoke the words she could not.

“The girl…she’s here, isn’t she? Ohhh…I knew this would be a good night.”

--